


Craving Her Dominance

by hollybennett123



Category: High School Musical (Movies)
Genre: Anal, Dominance, F/M, Pegging, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-29
Updated: 2009-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-01 19:44:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollybennett123/pseuds/hollybennett123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a <a href="http://community.livejournal.com/tweendom_anon/1194.html?thread=15018#t15018">kink meme prompt</a> at Tweendom_Anon over at Livejournal. The prompt was simply "HSM, Sharpay/Ryan, pegging."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Craving Her Dominance

**Author's Note:**

> First posted May 2009, posted here March 2012 and backdated.

He watches as she fumbles with the fiddly straps around her waist, pink lacquered nails scraping lightly against the smooth skin of her hips as she gets everything in place. She’s still wearing her underwear, and he can see a glossy sheen in the silk fabric of her panties where her wetness is soaking through; he wants to reach out and touch her, but knows he can’t. Not yet.  

  
The sex is nothing new, but they’ve never tried it like _this_ before. He swallows, and can’t stop _staring._ It’s big, so much bigger than the finger or two he is used to and he wonders what it will be like to be filled, to be stretched, to actually have _her_ fucking _him_ and not the other way around.   
  
For some reason, it just seems so much more right like this.

It is oddly erotic to see her like this, kneeling on the bed stroking the strange, jutting appendage as if it were a real cock. She’s looking at _it_ , not at him, and a naughty smile curls one corner of her lips at thoughts of what is about to take place. If he weren’t so used to that look, it’d scare him. Instead it sends thrills through him; he craves her dominance.

She doesn’t say anything, just crawls forwards cat-like across the soft blankets of the bed until she is in front of him. Uncertain, he spreads his legs a little, not really sure how she wants to do this; she takes the lead and spreads them for him, soft ( _perfect, perfect_ ) hands pressing against his calves. Propped up on both hands, her blonde hair cascades over her shoulder and brushes against his skin, creating tiny tingles of pleasure; every touch is magnified, his skin so sensitive that the smallest movement feels incredible. 

She dips her head down to kiss him, lazy and languid, gently sucking on his tongue until he is breathless and desperate. Pulling back, she grabs a bottle from the shelf behind her and without breaking eye contact, squirts the clear gel onto her fingers, rubbing them together to warm it and spread it evenly. She presses her index finger gently against his entrance, kissing his chest and collarbone as she does so; he gasps as it slips inside and she laughs, wicked but with an underlying affection he doesn’t miss. A second finger joins the first, stroking and probing, finding his sweet spots with practised ease; she quite literally knows him inside and out.

He sighs when she eventually slides her fingers out, not wanting the exquisite torture to end. Equally, he is desperate for what is about to come, has wanted it for so long; she feels the same and he knows it.

She leans over him again, palms flat to the mattress and fingertips curling in with restrained desire, predatory and possessive despite her beautiful, tiny body and blue-eyed blonde-haired innocence.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he breathes as she presses the head of the dildo to his slick skin, applying a pressure that builds then vanishes as suddenly he is filled, and it’s _inside,_ and she’s pushing further and further to test his limits; it doesn’t feel _good_ , exactly, but it’s certainly not bad either. Different, that’s for sure. 

She smiles, and presses her lips to his again, sliding out almost all the way, and _oh_ if that doesn’t feel _amazing,_ as nerves he never knew he had are stimulated in all the right ways. He groans appreciatively into her mouth and he feels her smirk between feather-light kisses.

"You like that," she says, voice dripping with sex and a seductive arrogance that sends lust curling through his body and blood rushing to his cock. It’s not a question; in fact, it’s more like an order.

She fucks like she dances, all fluid hip rolls and easy grace, her outrageous confidence never wavering. She doesn’t falter, just finds a rhythm and sticks to it. They dance together every day; this isn’t any different.  Back and forth, the smooth glide starts to wear away into a building friction and the pleasure is all-consuming; she whispers filthy words in his ear, about how goddamn _hot_ he is, how much she likes fucking him with her big cock, and isn’t this just amazing; aren’t they just _amazing_ together?

As his vision starts to blur around the edges, his mind losing track of much else other than heat and friction and want, he thinks, _yes_.

_ They are. _

_ _


End file.
